At Evening

Let me now sleep, let me not think, let me
Not ache with inconsistent tenderness.
It was untenable delight; we are free--
Separate, equal--and if loverless,
Love consumes time which is more dear than love,
More unreplicable. With everything
Thus posited, the choice was clear enough
And daylight ratified our reckoning.

Now only movement marks the birds from the pines;
Now it's dark; the blinded stars appear;
I am alone, you cannot read these lines
Who are with me when no one else is here,
Who are with me and cannot hear my voice
And take my hand and abrogate the choice.

by Vikram Seth

Comments (4)

daylight retified our reckoning Great conceptualization. Thanks for sharing.
Realisation of life at the end of the day..it is really beautiful poem.
Nighttime is the worst - the business of the day is over and nothing presents itself to distract and we are left prey to the tossing and turning in fruitless search of sleep while the heart yearns for the love that is gone. Great work.
' Love consumes time which is more dear than love ' - ***